


Femslash February 2019 - Sansaery edition

by Saraste



Series: Femslash February 2019 [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Femslash February 2019, sansaery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-10-21 03:06:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17634851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/pseuds/Saraste
Summary: A collection of sansaery drabbles, each a morsel of 100 words. Not connected.





	1. First and Last

Roses bloom in fair Highgarden, filling the air with their lovely scent, the sun kisses the sea as it’s setting, and Margaery’s arms are full of Sansa, her lips on her lips, and the moment is unlike any before or after, unlike any moment that could ever be.

Sansa clings to her, giving her all, letting Margaery have her, and she makes their kiss the eternity which they’ll never have.

She feels faint, tells herself it’s from the kiss, of the headiness of Sansa, shuts everything out and loses herself into the kiss of her life, first and last.

And...


	2. lovely sounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perfect drabble. Stand-alone. Angst.

Sansa closes her eyes and lets Margaery’s soft voice wash over her and gives her body to her touch, just where she needs. She bites her lip, gasping, as the hand moves at her center, between her trembling thighs.

‘You make such lovely sounds for me,’ she hears Margaery say.

Sansa whimpers close to the edge, aching for that soft touch, her own too hasty, weeps for those words to come from elsewhere than just memories.

Her back arches, she sobs ‘Margaery’, finishes and is still, tears spilling her cheeks.

Margaery is nothing but a ghost and Sansa's pleasures hollow.


	3. hers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble. Oneshot. Purple-prose'y smut. Mild tones of D/s.

She sings prettily in sighs and moans, Margaery’s name on her lips a curse and benediction all in one. The arch of her back, the gentle swell of her breasts is a poem, the apex of her thighs an altar at which Margaery gives worship.

She feels divine, lips on the center of Sansa’s pleasure, covets her climaxes, records them in her memory, like pressed wildflowers.

Sansa moans, swells and comes and comes, goes beyond pleasure, shuddered speechless. Margaery takes her surrender, holds her safe, guards her until she’s back again.

Because of love and adoration, because Sansa is  _ hers _ .


	4. In Need of a Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble. Oneshot. Outdoor shenanigans. Fluffsy smut.

Her lips are rosy, parted in an inviting gasp, eyes bright and wide, hair spilling over grass and flowers, chest heaving.

‘You look in need of a kiss,’ Margaery says, teasing, pretending her hand isn’t up Sansa’s skirt, touching where she’s slick and trembling for her.

‘Kiss me then,’ Sansa sighs, presses against the meat of Margaery’s palm, biting her lower lip.

Margaery does, takes in all her sighs and highs, kisses lingering her way down from lips to breasts and under Sansa’s skirts.

She loses herself there, in her own pleasure in Sansa’s pleasure, and their passion burns bright.

 


	5. Flower Braids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble. Oneshot. Fluff.

Their first summer in Highgarden, Sansa braids flowers into Margaery’s lovely long hair, after having brushed it smooth, washing it with rose-water.

She’d told Margaery _I love you_ for the first time when she was brushing her hair, and now no-one is allowed to but her.

‘Tell me?’ she hears.

‘Tell you what?’ she asks, playing the game.

‘Everything…’

‘Hmm,’ she kisses the nape of Margaery’s neck, ‘I love you?’ It isn’t a question, instead a surety, a deep-rooted truth.

‘I love you too, dearest.’

Sansa braids flowers into Margaery’s hair for the rest of their lives, loving and living.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble. Oneshot. Vampire-AU. Horror.

Not even death keeps them apart, because Margaery comes back to Sansa with shuffling steps and hungry eyes and the same obsession with her she had in life, now darker.

Sansa greets her back with a smile, because she’s lost without her, and invites her in, even when her smile is too sharp, and there is grave-soil in her hair. She seals her fate uncaring, yearning for lost things.

Margaery gives her one last kiss, crushes her close to her cold chest as she repays her welcome, gorging on her life’s blood, because that’s all she knows to crave, now.


	7. and the world is theirs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble. Oneshot. WAFF. Weddings.

Margaery gently slid the ring into Sansa’s finger and kissed that hand, eyes shining bright, lips brushing knuckles.

Sansa stood, near to swooning, sliding her own ring on Margaery’s finger. There’s no chance of anything else before she’s being kissed, that kiss more binding than any words, their love alone has forged them together.

The air is full of rose-petals as they change their vows and all those who matter cheer, and the rest are meaningless, there is but love. 

A bright future is written on their smiling eyes and joined hands and laughing mouths and the world is theirs.


	8. where she pleases

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble. Oneshot. Kissing. Naughtiness.

Margaery kisses Sansa where she pleases.

Her kisses are never brief, cursory pecks to the cheek or lips; they are always and forever lingering affairs, full of sweetness laced with hunger, mostly almost indecent even in public.

Sansa loves them, gives herself up to her kissing willingly, is deaf to censure.

Even when Margaery bends to kiss her neck, her heaving bosom, hands fondling her through her gown, even when Margaery kisses her lips, leg between her thighs, Sansa shamelessly taking her pleasure, shifting against her.

Sansa allows for Margaery to kiss her where she will, when she will, always.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oneshot. Angst.

‘You should be here,’ Sansa says, looking into the snow-swirling horizon, into a new dawn, a new age, missing the old, because it still had Margaery in it, even if the rest was wrong, ‘this should be your world.’

Closing her eyes, she can almost feel those familiar arms wrap around her, soothing and teasing at once, hot breath on her neck, a kiss to her freezing cheek: a ghost of memory.

She can’t imagine Margaery’s words, that’s too much, and she can’t bear to try.

The new world will never be fully hers, because it’s missing her sweet Margaery.


	10. bath-time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble. Oneshot. Bath. Playfulness.

Margaery leaned closer, humid air swirling in the space between them, appreciating the way Sansa’s breasts bobbed on the surface, the way her hair floated on amidst the suds, the water showing and hiding tantalizingly.

‘Need help?’  she asked, having first thoroughly kissed a very appreciative Sansa.

Sansa stretched. ‘Maybe...’

Margaery slid the washcloth between Sansa’s thighs. ‘Here?’

‘Higher.’

Margaery slid it into the crease of her thigh and inward. ‘Here?’

‘Lower…’

‘Here?’ Margaery asked, softly purring, pressing where Sansa wanted it, needed it.

‘Yes, there… Mmhhh...’

Margaery kissed her and then washed every single crease and fold of her.


	11. suits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern-AU. Suit-kink.

Margaery wears her suits with such confidence and poise that they seem like a second skin. They’re all tailor-made, every stitch hand-sewn, cut and made to fit, to flaunt, to arrest the eye, to say: here I am, look.

And they do: turn head and make people forget what they’re saying, what they were doing, maybe even who.

But Sansa alone is allowed to take her out of them, fold them aside neatly as Margaery works to distract her as she does, until she’s standing in nothing but skin and every bit as arresting as in one of her suits.


	12. everyone knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bondage. Established relationship. Auditory exhibitionism. Loving, sane and consensual kinkplay.

Sansa flexes her arms for show, completely content to be where she is, laid out for Margaery's pleasure, poised for her perusal, bound but not gagged, because she's meant to be heard.

 

Margaery looks up at her, from between her spread legs and then bends to work, letting everyone hear to whom Sansa belongs, who has her moans, sighs and whimpers.

 

Sansa belongs, body and soul, and no-one else knows her pleasure like this. Hers might be surrender, but also the gift of trust, that Margaery won't abuse her vulnerability, she never does.

 

And everyone knows it, and envies them.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sub!Margaery. Dom!Sansa. Kink.

Margaery could not speak, her mind full of Sansa: her touch, her voice, her control.

It should have been scary, letting go like this, because she enjoyed having all the reins, being in charge; she could never have believed that letting go could be this exhilarating, and everything was still hers to decide, decline, if she so wished.

She only needed say one word and it would all stop, this sweet teasing torment, the delayment of gratification until she was crazy with it, could think nothing else.

But she said nothing, let Sansa pull her under and care for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't remember if I've ever written a submissive Margaery before. I kinda liked it.


	14. morning light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff.

Margaery loves watching the morning light catch on Sansa's ruddy hair from the gap in the curtains, catching on it, could stare at it for hours.

 

She does, sometimes, but invariably Sansa always eventually wakes up and looks at her, knowing full well what she's been doing, smiling fondly.

 

‘Morning,’ Margaery always says, caught and unashamed, and kisses her, tender and soft, stale morning-breath and all.

 

‘Morning,’ Sansa sighs into the whisper-space between their lips and bushes her over, making love to her in the morning light that spills over the bed and them both.

 

Morning's are ever Margaery's favourite.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Established relationship. D/s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is loosely part of the Red Keep Tales-verse, but I can't seem to be able to add it there as I posted it this way.

Margaery likes dressing up Sansa, putting her into girly things which make her look as innocent as can be, knowing that she’s everything but. It’s the play of it, the masking, that really excites her.

Sansa plays her part, too, is all coy, innocent and demure, like she would never ask Margaery to hurt her so there’s no line between pleasure and pain.

But Margaery likes it best, sometimes, when she dresses up innocent too, takes Sansa to the Red Keep and shows everyone what’s for, and makes Sansa come apart, just like she’s asked, living out both their fantasies.

 

 


	16. safe and loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom!Sansa & sub!Margaery. Sub-space. Safe, Sane and Consensual.

Margaery loves letting Sansa take control after a gruelling workday; at home she doesn’t need to decide anything, think anything, knowing Sansa will always take care of her, allowing her to empty her mind so she can just... be.

She sinks eagerly, overwhelmed in Sansa’s loving, familiar hands, feeling nothing but love, contentment, a thrilling emptiness of thought, knowing she is safe.

Sansa takes care of her when she wakes; washes her with gentle hands, crooning praise as she does, and then tucks her into their bed, curling around her, singing a lullaby until she falls asleep, safe and loved.


	17. winter sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bondage. Dom!Sansa. Sub!Margaery.

Sansa looks at her handiwork, lips curling into a smile.

The bed is bathed in the bright winter sunlight of a weekend noon, which they can spend in bed, indulging in each other, the sun kissing Margaery’s stretched-out body, arranged just so.

‘Comfortable?’ she asks, standing at the foot of the bed, making Margaery wait, knowing how she likes that.

Margaery flexes with a sigh, wrists and ankles straining the sturdy leather-bindings, affixed to the corners of their four-poster. ‘Yes.’

Sansa spends a moment more drinking in the sight of Margaery’s willing submission, before she gently kisses an ankle, beginning.


	18. beach days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern beach AU.

Beach-days are torture. That is a truth Margaery knows, yet she cannot deny Sansa them, for Sansa always asks so nicely.

Swimming isn’t the issue, even if Sansa looks very fetching when she floats on her back in the sea, her russet hair swirling around her, her eyes closed, a satisfied smile on her face; and irresistible when she raises from the sea, dripping and shining.

No, the issue is sunblock.

Because Margaery has to put it on Sansa, because else she’ll burn, her skin being so fair, and her mind often wanders, and she cannot act on it.

…torture.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF.

’Am I? … yours?’ Margaery is almost shy asking, but she’s been burnt before, so is now loathe to expose her heart, which she wants to wear in her sleeve all the time now, because Sansa is everything she could wish for.

Yet…

Sansa looks at her, a crease between her brows, her pretty mouth pursed, her eyes looking at her lovingly. She then bends to give a kiss, a long, lingering kiss of possession, of surrender, of belonging, that leaves nothing unclear. She says the words, too, those words Margaery needs.

‘You’re mine. As I am yours. Always. Forever.’


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Established relationship. Angst & Fluff. Family.

March, April, May are talk and preparation, excitement.

In June, a pink pale line blossoms, a culmination of their hopes and dreams, and the world is kittens and rainbows and hushed secrets.

Summer doesn’t come with a growing belly, but tears and disappointment.

September brings a careful hope, October, November and December shelter it.

January is for optimism, Sansa curling around Margaery in bed, hands on her belly, feeling small kicks.

May brings a late spring and their early baby, small but perfect, and theirs. Sansa sings her lullabies as Margaery watches on, and they are a family at last.

 


End file.
